Friday, February 10, 2012

Habakkuk 3:18"Yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation."

Laughter rolls through the house like a spring shower dances on a tin roof. Loud. Boisterous. Rip-roaring belly laughs to split sides and buckle you over.

Oh, God, thank you for laughter. Thank you for the smiles and the too-too-fast talking Allison is carrying on with her friend. Friends. Oh, God, thank you for good friends who can help us laugh through the darkest of storms.

Just when I thought the house had died, LIFE found its way here again with the love and joy of friendship.

I leave the door to our bedroom cracked open just to hear the sounds of life--not to tell them it's late and they have to go to sleep.

Laugh, girls, laugh. Fill this sorrow-laden house with your teenage joy.
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Lord, thank you for good friends who bring us back from the shadow of death.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Romans 8:38-39 NIV"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

I held baby Russell in my arms as the swift current propelled us down a gully towards the sea. We bounced up and down in the murky water, yet I managed to hold his head high, so he could breathe. As I frantically searched for a way out of the danger, the current forced us into a culvert. We both went under. I held my breath and hoped an opening would soon appear. Instead, we were inside too long. When I came up for air, he was gone. I had failed to save him.

The dream was so real that even now my lungs ache from holding my breath. I suppose this is one of many dreams I will have where I am unable to save my son.

Allison called early this morning from the slumber party where she had spent the night. She hadn't slept and felt sick. She wanted to come home. She apologized repeatedly for making us drive for 40 minutes to come get her. We finally got the message through to her that of course we were coming to bring her home and there is nothing to apologize for.

For me, today was what Morrie Schwartz called "a tension of opposites". Whereas I could easily help one child, I was powerless to protect the other. I suppose this tension will be within me for some time.

A friend who lost his son thirty years ago told me last week that only time can help us, but time moves awful slowly. Week four is beginning, and the numbness, disbelief and despair I feel as a mother is just as poignant as when I first heard the news of his death.

However, God's grace has been apparent to us as we have walked this road. So many prayers have been offered up for us by complete strangers. The love that people around the world have sent us is lifting us and getting us up each morning to face the new day.

I still believe God is good. My faith, rather than being tested through this experience, has been bolstered and affirmed. God is holding our heads up above the raging waters of confusion and sorrow. He is stronger than me, and unlike the outcome of my dream, He won't let us drown or become destroyed due to this event. It will just take time.

With God, time is eternity, and He will meet us one day and erase all the pain we feel.
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Lord, thank you for keeping me from drowning in my pain. You are amazing.